I could just slap you
by darkangelpeyton1
Summary: My final birthday present for my friend Ashley. I hope she likes it.


**This is my last b-day present for my friend Ashley. I hope she likes it. This is a BBC Sherlock Sherlolly fic and it takes place during "His Last Vow" I had Molly be the one who's there when Sherlock wakes up instead of that other woman who's name I can't remember at the moment.  
>So, I apologize for any and all grammatical errors or any mistakes in characterization.<strong>

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the storyline.**

Molly sat in the chair beside the bed trying her hardest not to bite her nails. It was a nervous habit of hers that she hadn't done in a very long time and as she sat there staring intently at Sherlock's face; she felt the urge to bite her nails. When John had called her and told her what had happened, she had tried her hardest to get here as soon as she could. She couldn't believe that he could be so reckless and stupid. Well, that wasn't completely true, she did believe that he would be this reckless and stupid, but she had always hoped that he had better sense. Molly was brought out of her thoughts at the sound of a slight groan. She leaned forward and without thinking about it grabbed for his hand. Slowly, he's eyes fluttered open and he had a look of confusion on his face as he took in his surroundings.

"You're in the hospital," she told him. His eyes instantly found her face and he stared at her in concentration. He looked at her as if he wasn't sure she was real. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and his eyes flew down to his hand, and he studied it. Molly started to grow slightly concerned and was about to let go of his hand when he captured hers in a vice like grip. Her eyes widened in worry.

"Sherlock," she called his name and his eyes locked with hers, "Are you okay?"

"Just checking to make sure that I'm awake," he explained as he let go of her hand.

"How are you?" Molly asked as she scooted the chair closer to the bed.

"Fine," Sherlock answered dismissively.

"Oh, good," Molly replied before she stood and hit his arm. Sherlock looked up at her in shock.

"You hit me?" he stated shocked that Molly would hit him in his weakened condition, "What was that for?"

"Oh, I didn't hit you that hard. It was only a tap and I hit you because you're being a complete idiot," Molly cried, "Do you know how worried I was? How worried John, Mary, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade all were?"

"I assure you there was no need to be worried," Sherlock once again dismissed the subject.

"Actually, there was a need to be worried, Sherlock. You were shot!" Molly exclaimed growing annoyed at how flippant he was treating the subject, "You could have died. Do you understand that? Has this information sunk into that brilliant mind of yours?"

"Yes, Molly, I am quite aware of how close to death I was," Sherlock replied growing angry himself, "But as you can see I am alive."

"Just barely," she argued trying to calm herself down.

"Molly, if the person that shot me wanted me dead they would have shot me in a place where they knew I would die instantly," Sherlock pointed out and Molly stood there growing more frustrated because she knew he had a point and she hated that he did, "Now, please, explain to me why I should be concerned again?"

"Because whether or not they meant to shot you and kill you, they tried to and you almost died," Molly stressed trying so desperately to get him to understand why she was so upset, "Do you still not realize how many people would be upset if you were dead, Sherlock?" Sherlock didn't reply to her question and Molly knew that he did understand. Molly refused to believe that he didn't understand how many people cared about him after seeing everyone's reaction to his being alive.

"Well, I'm fine," he sighed changing the subject and growing tired of Molly's fussing. Molly stood there about to argue with him further when she stopped and studied him. Her eyes widened as a thought struck her.

"You know who tried to kill you," she accused him.

"No, I don't," he replied as if that was the most moronic idea ever suggested to him.

"Yes, you do," she countered, "You know who it was." The two remained in silence as Molly continued to watch him and Sherlock tried to come up with a response.

"Who was it?" Molly barked, "Why haven't you told anyone?"

"I don't know who it was and if I did how would I have told anyone when I just woke up?" he told her. Molly gave him an annoyed look because she knew he was trying to trip her up.

"I know you're lying Sherlock," Molly stated after taking a second to calm herself down, "If you want to keep it to yourself and risk your life then I can't change that, but if you think for one second that I'm not going to let John or Lestrade know that you know who shot you, you are sadly mistaken."

"You may do whatever you like Molly, but nothing you say will change my answer," he argued back, "I did not see who shot me." Molly rolled her eyes at his words and walked over to the window in his room. It was starting to get cloudy outside and looked like it was going to rain. Molly really hoped that it wouldn't because she hadn't brought her umbrella and didn't feel like walking home in the rain.

"What happened?" Molly turned to look at Sherlock in confusion, "With...uh...what was his name?...uh...the fiance?"

"Tom?"

"Yes, him," Sherlock exclaimed, "What happened with him?"

"Are you seriously asking me about my personal life?" Molly wondered growing more confused.

"Well, you were wearing an engagement ring and now you are not," Sherlock pointed out as he rubbed his cheek to let her know that he hadn't forgotten her slapping him.

"You deserved that," Molly stated not sorry about her actions, "You were being stupid and you needed to realize it." Sherlock felt the corner of his mouth lift in a slight smirk. He had been quite taken aback when Molly had slapped him and had also been surprised, yet thankful when he didn't feel the ring on her finger.

"You didn't answer my question," Sherlock pointed out.

"I ended it," Molly murmured after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"Why?" Sherlock asked intrigued. Sure, when he had first discovered that Molly was engaged he hadn't cared at all, but then he had been slightly interested when he observed the man that was her fiance. He did share some similar traits to Sherlock, but obviously was a moron. When he had made that suggestion of a meat dagger at John and Mary's wedding he had given Molly a look as if asking if she was serious. Sherlock knew that Molly could do much better and much smarter. So, when he had realized after her rather vicious and surprising slaps, that she wasn't getting married to him anymore he had become interested again.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked.

"Curious," he answered.

"Yeah, but never about my personal life," Molly acknowledged, "Why do you want to know, Sherlock?"

"I told you I'm curious," Sherlock replied growing annoyed himself. It wasn't that hard of a question, why wouldn't she just answer it? Molly wasn't sure what his real motive for asking was, but she could tell that he was being honest when he said he was curious.

"I decided that it had moved too fast and that he wasn't the right guy for me," Molly told him without looking at him.

"Why wasn't he the right guy?" he asked. Molly shook her head not wanting to answer his question, which just made Sherlock more curious.

"I don't want to talk about this Sherlock," Molly explained as she made her way back to the chair beside Sherlock's bed.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because it's none of your business," Molly stated through gritted teeth.

"Am I annoying you, Molly?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, Sherlock. You are annoying me," Molly replied and was about to give him another tongue lashing when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, "I'll be right back." Molly walked out of the room and went to stand off to the side of his door. She took her phone out of her pocket, clicked the SEND button, and put it up to her ear.

"What's going on?" Molly answered.

"Hey, I have a body being sent to Barts and I need you to do the autopsy," Lestrade greeted her.

"Why me? I'm not on duty," Molly stated slightly frustrated because she wanted to stay with Sherlock.

"Because Molly I need it done fast and we both know that you can get it done for me," Lestrade explained. Molly sighed both in annoyance and defeat.

"Okay, I'll be there in 15," Molly replied, "Oh and Sherlock's awake."

"He's awake?" Lestrade asked, "Does John now?"

"No, I haven't got a hold of him yet," Molly told him, "Well, I'm going to go."

"Okay, I'll call John and let him know," Lestrade said, "Talk to you later, Molly." Molly hung up her phone and sighed as she leaned against the wall. She really didn't want to go, but she had a job to do. Molly went back into Sherlock's room and was surprised to see Sherlock setting up in bed.

"What are you doing? You should be resting," Molly chastised him.

"I'm fine, Molly," he sighed, "Who was on the phone?"

"Why do you want to know?" Molly asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes at the fact that she was trying to avoid his question.

"Lestrade needs me, so I have to go," Molly told him.

"Okay," Sherlock said trying not show his curiosity, but Molly could tell he wanted to know.

"I'll come visit you after I'm done and tell you all about it," Molly promised with a smirk. Sherlock didn't reply, but just nodded his head still trying to look indifferent. Molly turned to leave, but Sherlock's voice halted her.

"Thank you," Molly turned and looked at him in shock.

"What?" Molly gasped. Sherlock rolled his eyes at Molly's shock.

"You heard me, don't make me repeat myself," Sherlock groaned. Molly felt herself smile amused at both his words and at his annoyance.

"Why are you thanking me?" Molly asked.

"For being here when I woke up," Sherlock admitted reluctantly. Molly felt her heart skip a beat at his words. Molly felt so touched by his words and wasn't sure what to do or say.

"Of course, I would be here," Molly said as she came back over to him, "You should know by know that I'll always be there when you need me." Sherlock nodded his head at her words. He knew her words were true because she had already proven it before. Sherlock knew that Molly loved him and while he tried to understand her feeling for him and even sometimes tried to return those feelings, it was hard for him. Sherlock slowly reached out and grasped Molly's hand. Molly looked down at their linked hands with wonder.

"Thank you, Molly," Sherlock murmured. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled.

"You're welcome, Sherlock," Molly whispered softly trying to keep her emotions under control, "I have to go." Sherlock released Molly's hand and leaned back in his bed.

"Go to sleep. Rest up your body," Molly advised. Sherlock rolled his eyes at her words which instead of annoying Molly, it just made her chuckle. When she reached the door she looked back and was satisfied to see that he was asleep. Molly walked out of the hospital and was thankful that it wasn't raining as she quickly made her way to Barts to get to work.

**OoOoOo**

About an hour later, Molly was walking out of Barts finally getting the autopsy done that Lestrade had needed her to do. Molly was about to head in the direction of her flat when she felt her phone vibrate. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and opened the message that was from John. **Just arrived at the hospital with Mary and Sherlock is gone. Have you seen him?**, Molly read the text about three times before the words finally sunk in. He was gone. Sherlock had left the hospital after she had told him that he needed to rest. She quickly sent a reply to John and headed towards her flat. Molly quickly dialed Sherlock's number and walked hurriedly as she listened to it ring. Her anger and fear grew when she got his voicemail.

"Sherlock, what the hell are you thinking? You are severely wounded and should be resting," Molly practically growled into her phone. She was growing angrier and angrier the more she walked and talked.

"I swear, Sherlock Holmes, if John doesn't kill you for this stunt, I will," Molly threatened as she hung up her phone. It was times like this that Molly wondered how someone as brilliant as Sherlock Holmes could also be so bloody stupid.

**So, that's it. I hope you like it Ashley and I'm sorry it took me so long to get it done. **  
><strong>~Brittany~<strong>


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